Our Love to Admire: A Future Fic
by abfan123
Summary: Set during the summer of 2031. All Manhattan's elite are in the Hamptons to celebrate the engagement of Yale Waldorf-Rose and Ulysses Graham Roosevelt. This summer the drama of the UES will scorch the Southampton Beaches. mostly C/B with N/J D/S E/OC
1. Prologue

All of our favorite Upper East Siders have grown up and moved on to bigger and better domination beyond the hallowed halls of Constance Billard and St. Jude's, but now it's another generation's turn to reek havoc through Manhattan's streets. All good tales must have a beginning and this one starts in the Hamptons, where Manhattan's elite frolic in the sand and laze away the hazy summer days.

All of the major players are in the magical place for the society event of the year, the engagement of Yale Waldorf-Rose to Ulysses Graham Roosevelt – yes that Roosevelt.

Charles and his wife Blair Bass, on the last leg of their marriage, are hoping that the romance and memories of summers past will help them reconnect. Their twin daughters Audrey and Grace, however, have a much different idea of connecting now that they are back in the Hamptons after a five-year absence.

Workaholics, Nate and Jenny Archibald are looking for relaxation away from the city that never sleeps, and while they may feel secure in their relationship, a midsummer night's heat can change everything. Their children Flip – or Phillip – and Izzy are hoping to stir up trouble in their ongoing summer tradition.

The ever poised and wonderfully respected Eric Van der Woodsen, along with partner Henry are Hampton's staples – chairing every function and attending every benefit—along with adopted beauties Olivia and Theodore will attempt to uphold the family legacy.

Then there is Dan and Serena Humphrey, who have finally found a reason to drag themselves to that wedding present from Lily and Bart Bass that lays on two acres of Southampton real estate. However, will the culture shock prove too much for their children Lorence, Madeline, and Weston?

Things may heat up in the concrete jungle during the sweltering summer days, but all the drama of the Upper East Side will be scorching the Southampton Beaches this year.

* * *

New Characters:

Yale Waldorf-Rose: 22-year-old daughter of Eleanor and Cyrus Rose

Ulysses Graham Roosevelt: 24-year-old fiancé of Yale, great grandson of Franklin Delano Roosevelt and Harvard Law student

Audrey Bass: 15-year-old twin daughter of Chuck and Blair Bass (will turn 16 over the summer)

Grace Bass: 15-year-old twin daughter of Chuck and Blair Bass (will turn 16 over the summer)

Phillip (Flip) Archibald: 17-year-old son of Nate and Jenny Archibald

Isabelle (Izzy) Archibald: 15-year-old daughter of Nate and Jenny Archibald

Henry Van der Woodsen: Husband of Eric Van Der Woodsen

Olivia Van der Woodsen: 14 year old adopted daughter of Eric and Henry Van der Woodsen

Theodore (Theo) Van der Woodsen: 11 year old adopted son of Eric and Henry Van der Woodsen

Lorence Humphrey: 17-year-old son of Dan and Serena Humphrey

Madeline (Maddy) Humphrey: 16-year-old daughter of Dan and Serena Humphrey

Weston (West) Humphrey: 10 year old son of Dan and Serena Humphrey


	2. Chapter 1: Truth

Chapter One: _Truth _or _Through the Looking Glass_

Yale Waldorf-Rose was always able to upstage her sister. Blair attended Columbia University in Manhattan after her humiliating rejection from the only college she ever thought she would attend. Yale went to Harvard, and she was accepted early admission. Blair married the CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation the summer before law school, in an elegant affair at Glen Cove Mansion in South Fork. Yale will have a spring wedding in Central Park, with reception to follow at the Pierre when she marries Ulysses Graham Roosevelt, yes, that Roosevelt. Somehow Blair has found herself wrangled into her little sister's fairytale fantasy wedding, and is sitting with Eleanor, Yale, Viviane Roosevelt, and the caterer at East Hampton Point where the couple's engagement party would take place on Sunday.

Not that Blair is a novice at planning high society functions, she has chaired more brunches luncheons and teas than she could even remember. However, that is the reason she's here, for an opinion, her organizational skills, her uncanny ability to get what she wants from vendors, otherwise she would be playing golf with Cyrus and Aaron. Or maybe it is one last dig from her baby sister at how she let two princes go in favor of new money, alcoholic, womanizing, deviant, _Chuck Bass_.

"Blair dear, how are the girls enjoying the summer so far? I know it's been so long since the family was here," Eleanor asked politely. She never knew what had happened five years ago that sent her daughter and the twins into exile in Monaco for the most recent summers.

She delicately sipped her mimosa and placed the champagne flute back on the table with a tight smile. "The girls are having a lovely time, although Grace has been interning at the real estate division and coming in with Chuck for the weekends," Blair held back a choke when she said her husbands name and hoped that none of the other women noticed her disgust.

"Grace is so determined, I wouldn't be surprised if she had her pick of the Ivies when she graduates, and not to mention the lacrosse players," Yale drawled with a smug smile. Yale thought Grace was the Waldorf twin, and that Audrey was too much of a Bass to ever amount to anything.

Viviane, oblivious to the family politics at play, softly touched Blair's hand that was on the table. "Both of your girls are positively delightful, I'm sure Charles and yourself must be beating the young men with sticks to keep them away."

Another tight smile graced her features as she turned towards her sister's future mother-in-law. '_If Chuck ever noticed anything other than his whores and his scotch, maybe you would be right'_ Blair thought to herself. "Yes, my girls are quite popular." The vibration against her leg coming from her purse was a welcome reprieve, and Blair stood and excused herself to take the call.

Once she felt sufficiently out of earshot, she answered the call from her husband's private line, fully expecting him to be postponing his trip to their Long Island home. "What is it now Chuck?" Blair spat vehemently into the phone.

"_Well that certainly explains a lot,_" said the young female voice through the speaker. Blair pulled the phone from here ear in confusion to look at the screen again, and she had not misread the number.

She held back tears as she returned the phone to her face and took two more steps away from the table. "Who is this?"

"_This is Rebecca Grey, the woman that your husband has been fucking for the past three months Blair. I was getting tired of waiting for him to tell you himself so I've taken matters into my own hands_," the voice responded. Rebecca Grey from the Boston office, a girl two years behind her at Columbia that she had convinced Chuck to take a chance on without knowing her.

Blair quickly brushed away a tear that was looming on her bottom lashes. "If you think you're the first then you're sadly mistaken, you're only the first one stupid enough to think that you would matter." Blair bit back.

"_That's where you're wrong Blair,_" the voice on the line responded. "_I'm the first to last through the next morning_."

She inhaled deeply knowing the woman was wrong again. Summer in the city did something to her husband, all the women in short skirts and high heels with their ponytails flowing as they pounded the concrete. It had happened five years ago and chased her family to summers in the South of France, Monaco, and Sicily. The difference is Chuck swore on their girls that it would never happen again. "And what's your endgame, Rebecca? Do you think that he will leave his family to be with _you_? Are you looking for a blank check to keep you from going to the tabloids? Do you already have the headline envisioned?"

"_No Blair, I just thought that you should know,_" the line went dead and Blair felt an incomparable tightness in her chest. She had been so focused on the bitch on the other line that she didn't notice Eleanor standing at her side for the last part of the conversation.

"At least it was a woman darling, be comforted by that," her mother stated with a hint of pity in her voice before walking to the bathroom.

Blair walked back to the table, the blood pounding in her head and bile churning in her stomach. "I'm so sorry Yale, Viviane, that was Chuck's secretary, it appears my light-minded husband forgot some very important papers here last weekend and I need to get home immediately and fax them to his office." All the years of Chuck's deceit had somehow made her a better liar, while he got worse with the passing years.

Yale stood and embraced her sister with a triumphant smile gracing her lips in the knowledge that _her_ marriage would never be like her sister's. "That's okay Blair; tell Grace and Audrey hello for me, I'm so sorry they couldn't make it today,"

"Of course," Blair responded as she dropped an air kiss against Viviane's cheek. "See you both on Sunday,"

_She was going to kill that mother chucker_.


	3. Chapter 2: Leave

A/N: If you enjoy, well even if you don't, reviews are always appreciated :)

Grace's flashback is from the beginning of June, about a month before the story started.

Chapter Two: _Leave _or _Coming Undone_

Grace Lillian Bass had been sitting in the library window seat for the past hour listening to the crashing and screaming coming from her parents' second floor bedroom. She didn't know how it happened, but from a universe away, her mother had found out the information that she already knew. _Rebecca Grey_, the hostile bitch from Boston that was tearing her family to shreds.

* * *

_It had all happened by accident. She had gone back to the office after her normal hours looking for her father. He was late for dinner and she needed him. Jeremy Fisk had broken her heart and slept with Charlotte Ford. She needed her father to stroke her hair and call her his princess. Put back together the shards that Jeremy had left in his wake. The office was almost completely deserted at this hour but she said a pleasant hello to the few familiar faces she saw on her way. Pushing back tears as her father had taught her she opened the door to his office without knocking. She looked into the darkness, but she was sure she had heard voices on her way to the door. "Dad?" she had questioned tentatively._

"_Shit," her father said, but his voice was replaced quickly by a feminine groan in Grace's ears._

_Her hand flew to her mouth and the fresh tears she had been controlling flowed freely down her face. "Oh god…" was all she managed before running back to the elevators that had brought her to this revelation._

_Her father was chasing her through the winding halls of his office building and screaming her name, begging her to stop, to wait. But she couldn't, the only thing she could think was that her father was just like Jeremy. He took a nose-dive from the pedestal that his princess Grace had held him on for almost sixteen years. Grace was frantically pressing the elevator call button, fearing that she would die of asphyxiation if she didn't get outside at that very moment._

"_Princess," her father said as he grabbed her wrist; he was struggling to catch his breath._

_Grace wheeled around and slapped him with her free hand, leaving a burning red hand print on her father's cheek. "How could you," was all she managed before she saw Rebecca saunter towards the elevators from the direction of her father's office. She yanked her arm away from his and rushed into the waiting elevator, collapsing in a heap of tears in the corner. _

_Chuck rushed in after, quickly pressing the 'door close' button to offer them some privacy from Rebecca's prying gaze. He kneeled in front of his daughter the way he had Blair five years ago. Kissing her head and trying to wrap his arms around her shrunken frame whispering "my princess," rather than 'my queen'._

_When they reached the lobby, Grace pushed the tears out of her eyes and stood with eerie composure. She turned to her father's kneeling form, "Tell her. Swear to me you'll tell my mother the truth,"_

"_Grace…" he struggled with the words and he rose from his knees. It was so much more complicated than his innocent fifteen year old realized. She stared through him with steely determination, his wife's eyes. "You're right, I'll tell her princess."_

_She put a hand out as she diverted her eyes. "Don't call me that ever again. I was only a princess when you were the king."_

Dorota was screaming in polish, banging against the heavy oak door, when she heard a car pull into the gravel driveway of their house. She saw her father's chauffeured Bentley pulling towards the front door and she held the place in her book in order to greet him at the front door.

Chuck watched the twelve-foot door open half expecting his wife to be there to greet him after six days of separation, but when he saw his princess Grace staring at him with determined eyes, his heart dropped into the floor. "Grace?" he questioned when he stepped from the car without waiting for his driver's assistance.

"She knows," Grace stated simply. "I don't know how, but she does. Go upstairs and fix my mother." She stated simply before walking away from her father's defeated glare. She put her book into the basket of her bicycle and pedaled away without a second glance.

* * *

Dorota ran to the top of the stairs when she heard the heavy front door slam. "Mr. Chuck!" she yelled down to her employer when she saw him approach her. "Miss Blair, she make herself sick with yelling. She no open the door. I think she break something, too."

'_No Dorota, I did,'_ he thought to himself as he reached the door of his bedroom. "Blair," he called out to her hoping to bridge the gap that had become to distant between him and his wife. She yanked the door open in front of him, her hair was wild, and her eyes were enraged. He watched her pick up the priceless Austrian vase that sat on his side of the bed. "Blair, don't, it's an antique!" he yelled before the porcelain was sailing towards his head. He ducked down to protect himself and the vase went flying over the railing before crashing into a thousand pieces in the foyer. He ignored Dorota as she screamed and hustled down the stairs to clean the mess.

"Get out! Get the fuck out of this house Chuck!" she yelled as he walked into the room and locked the door behind himself. She went back to the closet to collect another pile of his shirts that she had spent the past hour folding and packing. When she turned around, she saw his bewildered face at the door to the walk-in. "Go back to Manhattan! Back to your whore! Or Europe! Or off the top of your fucking office building and straight to hell for all I care! Just get the fuck out of this house!" her voice was hoarse from all the screaming and vomiting. Somehow, she felt the need to empty her stomach again, even though she knew there was nothing left inside her.

Defeated he turned away from her and looked to the bed where two suitcases sat loaded with the garments his secretary had sent at the beginning of the summer so he wouldn't need to pack for the weekends. Then he heard her again.

"That's it? You prick! You fucking coward!" she dropped the clothing she was holding and pushed at his back trying to get him to face her again, just so he could see the damage in her eyes. "You rip my heart to shreds, stomp on my dignity, and fuck with my mind for seventeen years and that's it!? You turn your pompous back and walk away!?"

His shoulders slumped at her words but he still would not turn to meet her eyes. "What do you want me to say, Blair?" he choked on her name, holding back the emotions making his throat swell.

"Tell me you hate me," she began in a low voice that cracked on every other word. "Tell me you made the biggest mistake of your life the day you married me. Tell me that this is my fault because I never loved you enough, or because my body has not been the same since I gave birth. Tell me all the million things that have been racing through my head for the past two hours since I got a phone call from _Rebecca Grey_."

He was having a heart attack. His chest was caving in and the corners of his vision were fuzzy. This had to be what a heart attack felt like. "She called you?"

She couldn't take this anymore. She pushed past him and started towards their bedroom door until he grabbed her arm. Instinctively she turned around and slapped his face with all the energy she had left to muster. The moment seemed to last for hours, even days, two oceans of brown eyes plowing into each other. "I'm expected at my mother's, when I get back don't be here."

"Blair, you're my queen, the only one who ever mattered." He was drowning. He was dying. It felt like when his father died, no it was worse. He couldn't breathe.

Without responding, she pulled her arm from his weakened grasp and picked up her new purse on the way out the door. He could take her heart, her soul, her family, but damned if he took her Chanel.


	4. Chapter 3: Sweet

Chapter Three: _Sweet _or _Mine's Not a High Horse_

Eric Van der Woodsen surveyed his bright open living room from the vantage of his kitchen with a sense of pride and accomplishment. He and husband Henry were well-respected members of Hamptons' society on their own merit. Well, both being from established old-money families probably _helped_ but Eric knew they had arrived at the top by looking around the room. Any woman who mattered in New York was currently lounging against one of _his_ couches, eating _his_ homemade canapés, taking down notes dictated by _his_ husband. He entered with a smile and a third tray of drinks for his guests.

"Ladies, anyone for another Bellini or Bloody Mary?" Eric asked the women around the room, stealing their attention from his husband. Moments later the tray was empty again and the women resumed their twittering and planning for the charity polo-match benefiting the Children's Museum of the East End. If there was a recession in sight these women surely didn't know about it.

Henry smiled up as his husband after being handed a Bloody Mary, extra strong. "Thank you darling," he said in a voice so quiet only Eric could hear. These small moments made him love his husband even more, when they looked at each other like there was no one else in the world.

Suddenly, their beautifully blond adopted daughter flew through the open glass doors, sopping wet after a dip in the pool. "Don't slip!" both men yelled out protectively to the fourteen year old, eliciting a giggle from the young girls lips as she arrived at the wide front doors.

"Grace!" Olivia shouted to her older cousin as she pulled open the door and jumped into her arms.

"Oh Livy you're getting me all wet," the older girl said with a hearty laugh. Her young cousin was always so much like her favorite uncle Eric that she sometimes forgot their connection was not biological.

Eric excused himself from the society ladies and went to greet his niece. "Hi sweetheart, shouldn't your father be arriving from the city soon?" he asked with a wide smile gracing his lips. Grace was defiantly his favorite of Chuck's twins, although he hid the truth well. He noticed a slight falter in her eyes before she regained her regal composure, so much like her namesake, so much like Blair.

"Yes, he got into Southampton about twenty minutes ago. He had some things to discuss with my mother," She responded, trying to keep the tightness and tears out of her voice. Quickly changing the topic, Grace turned her attention back to her cousin. "I promised Livy that I would help her choose an outfit for Sunday. And Theo sent me about a thousand text messages this week making me promise to visit him today."

The older man smiled down at the two children and wrapped his niece in a bone-crushing embrace. "Then you two girls get to it, and I'll send Theo up in a bit." Before he released Grace, he could have sworn that he felt her choke back a sob.

Olivia grabbed her cousin's hand to drag the older girl up the winding staircase. "Come on Grace. Papa and daddy found the most beautiful vintage dresses in the city before we left. There's a purple one that's all flowy and has a cinched waist that I'm leaning towards. But then there's a yellow one with an a-line…"

Eric watched the cousins ascending the stairs with a smile on his face, but inside he felt his heart break a little for the young brunette with so much on her shoulders. He turned away after closing the front door and winked at his husband. The confusion was not obvious on his face, but Eric knew that Henry was interrogating him with the gaze.

* * *

Theo Van der Woodsen stared up into the sky from his perch on a floating lounge in the pool. He was envisioning the clouds as a million different shapes, thoughts of a thousand bedtime stories followed. He was the quiet one to Olivia's talkative nature. They both knew they were adopted, and from the same birth mother, an emotionally stunted twenty-two year old that couldn't care for two children so she gave them both up. Things could certainly be worse for this eleven year old.

"Theo, do you have on sunscreen?" the young boy tore his attention away from the clouds and looked at his dad standing in the glass doorway.

"Yes dad," he replied, with a roll of his eyes. Theo would never roll his eyes to his father's face, but he felt sufficiently protected by the dark Ray-Bans on his face.

"I know you just rolled your eyes at me," Eric responded, but he was going to let it pass. "The committee is packing up so how about you come in and get changed for lunch…Grace is joining us." He secretly believed that his son had a small crush on his older cousin and it always made him smile to see Theo's face brighten at the mention of her name.

Suddenly alert and swimming towards the pool ladder, Theo ran past his father with an insatiable grin taking over his face. Eric laughed at his son's enthusiasm, as the boy tripped on the third step of the winding staircase. He looked down when he noticed a beeping noise coming from his daughter's phone that lay abandoned on a pool chair. Just a little snooping never hurt, right?

_Gossip Girl Blast #2749_

_Spotted: P, A, and I in Southampton soaking in the rays. Better watch your brother closely I, sources tell me that he's fallen into A's cross hairs. And we all know that A always gets what she wants. Follow I's example and keep your friends close but your enemies closer Upper East Siders. XoXo_

* * *

As soon as the last guest was out the door after several air kisses, Henry heard the phone ringing from the kitchen. He groaned inwardly hoping, no praying, that whoever was on the line never had a charitable thought in their life. "Van der Woodsen residence."

"_It's Chuck_,"

Henry laughed to himself because apparently god was answering prayers today. "Hold on Chuck, I'll get Grace for you," but before he was able to press the intercom button that would connect him to his daughter's room Chuck stopped him.

"_Wait! Grace is there?_"

Unexpectedly in a prickly position, Henry recalled his niece's abrupt appearance at their door this afternoon. "Yes, she's upstairs with Olivia selecting a dress for the engagement party," going against his greater instinct to protect Grace's privacy, Henry understood that her safety was more important.

"_Henry, please don't tell her I'm on the phone._" After a long pause Chuck continued, "_I need to ask you and Eric for a favor_."

Henry's voice was caught somewhere between his lungs and tongue, but refused to emerge. '_Chuck Bass was calling them for a favor…today was an interesting day indeed_.' He thought to himself. The man was still his husband's brother so Henry cleared his throat to respond, "Of course Chuck, what do you need?"

"_Blair and I had…a disagreement_," he began. "_I'll need to stay with you for a few days while we iron things out_."

"She kicked you out?" Henry's head was spinning at the thought. Everyone knew about Chuck's not so discreet misdeeds with the opposite sex. Blair had turned her eyes from her husband's infidelity for as long as Henry knew her. Whatever Chuck had done must have been so overwhelming, so egregious… "Chuck, we're family, but Blair is too. Eric and I don't want to get in the middle of anything." Henry had to take her side; after all, he was her friend before he had even met Eric.

"_I know Henry. I just need a few days to…to fix this. I fucked up Henry; give me a chance to get my family back_."

They both knew where Chuck would be spending the night.


	5. Chapter 4: Languid

A/N: Thanks so much for all the amazing reviews! I'm really happy to hear that you're enjoying.

There's one important change that I want to let you know about, I'm trying my hand at a 100 prompt table. So I changed the names of the first 3 chapters, but I don't think I'm going to publish the table itself because I don't want to ruin the element of surprise. So from now on, the first part of the title is going to be the prompt word. xoxo

Chapter Four: _Languid_ or _Young and Proud_

Audrey Bass loved Thursdays. Something about the day that hung between Wednesday and Friday made her life perfect. To start, she was born on Thursday, while her sister was born on Wednesday, seventeen minutes before her. She had her first _real_ kiss with Drew Baizen, three years her senior, on a Thursday, in a broom closet at a birthday party when she was twelve. She had her first cocktail at a _Festival de Cannes_ party last summer celebrating the _Palme d'Or _recipient, obviously on a Thursday. Of all the epic Thursdays in her life, Audrey loved _every_ Thursday in the Hamptons. The icky tourists extracted themselves after four days of scouring the beaches for celebrities or socialites, and the boring workaholics didn't arrive from Manhattan until Friday afternoon. '_This Thursday would eclipse them all_,' Audrey thought to herself, '_because Phillip Howard Archibald has been cast as the male romantic lead in the story of my life, and tonight I'm going to make him mine_.'

Flip's voice snapped her out of her reverie but she couldn't see him with the blinding sun in her eyes. "Hey Bass, catch!" suddenly a football was flying towards her face, and although she tried to capture it the tanning oil on her hands caused it to slip and stumble on the sand.

"What the hell! You could have killed me, or worse, broken my nose!" she yelled, half joking, up at her valiant Adonis who now stood over her. "Flip, you're standing in my sun," she drawled while slightly pouting her lips. Boys turned to putty at the sight of Audrey Bass' slightly parted pillowy lips. She ran her right foot slowly up his calf eliciting a chuckle from the boys' chest before he ran off again, football in hand.

Isabelle collapsed on the plush towel beside her BFF Audrey, exhausted from being chased mercilessly by her brother's friends. "Okay A, you have to help me with this one," she slipped her Gucci sunglasses over her eyes and turned on her stomach. "Taylor Baizen, Wyatt Fisk, or Kennedy Astor?"

"You mean slimy, gropey, or dopey? Seriously Iz, you have to start looking beyond your brother's friends for hook-up buddies," Audrey responded with thinly veiled disdain. When Flip _finally_ realized that they were prefect for each other, her first order of business would be recruiting new friends for Prince Charming.

"Who said I was looking for a hook-up buddy?" Izzy snapped back. When Audrey unsuccessfully stifled a laugh next to her, Isabelle buried her face in her palms. "Forget I said anything," she whined, but it came out as a muffled jumble of syllables.

Flip ran over to the girls and kicked a pile of sand onto his sister triggering a swift and hard kick to his shin. "Fuck Iz!" he yelled while bending to rub his now sore leg. "You guys want to grab some lunch in town? Ken is baked out of his mind and thinks he's dying of starvation."

Both of the bikini-clad goddesses smiled up at him from behind dark designer glasses. At the same time, they sprinted across the beach in the direction of Flip's Mercedes GL550, pushing, and laughing all the way. Flip sighed as he collected the items the girls had left behind before turning to his friends and sending them to the SUV as well.

* * *

Despite being three inches shorter, the Bass twin had beat Izzy to the car and immediately claimed the front seat. "Look at it this way Iz, you can interrogate your future _boyfriend_ now while I entertain your brother," Audrey stated with a self-satisfied smirk. Her father's smirk.

"Very funny A," Isabelle responded as she climbed into the backseat. She reached down to grab her phone but found empty air and leather seats. "Shit, where's my phone?"

The driver's side door popped open and a small piece of metal came soaring towards her head. "Looking for these?" Flip questioned the two girls who had bound off the beach with no abandon. Not that he minded of course, because watching Audrey's petite body running in a white bikini was always a welcome sight.

Once everyone piled into the car, Ken and Wyatt in the last row, Izzy and Taylor in the middle, with Audrey and Flip riding shotgun, they finally set off in search of food.

Suddenly embarrassed by her state of undress, Audrey turned to Flip. "You didn't happen to grab my skirt when you took my cell phone, did you?" a slight blush crept into her cheeks without her realizing.

Flip smiled at her wickedly, "No, I thought I would enjoy the view better this way." His voice was low and gravely, clearly his flirtations were only meant for Audrey's ears.

Audrey heard her best friend gasp from the behind her before the blond popped her head through the opening between the front seats. "Is this true Audrey?" hurt and anger mixed her voice. Whenever Izzy called her Audrey, she knew the other was upset, but she was saved from any awkward conversation when Flip's phone rang over the car's speakers.

"Shut up every body, its my parents," he called out to the other teens before answering. "Hey mom, what's up?"

"_Hi sweetie, your dad and I are just getting off the highway. Where are you?_"

"Audrey is this gossip girl blast true?" Izzy pushed ignoring everyone around her except for her _supposed_ best friend.

"Shut up Iz," Flip whispered harshly to his sister. That ridiculous gossip website could wait. "We just left the beach and we're going to grab a bite to eat in town," he responded to his mother.

"_Great, we should be home—_."

Her daughter's hysterical questioning drowned out Jenny's voice. "Is this true Audrey, my brother? You're in love with my brother?" the whole car was suddenly washed in uncomfortable silence. Audrey's eyes were wide and she couldn't find her voice.

"_Flip, maybe you and Izzy should come home now. Your father and I are pulling into the driveway._"

When Audrey did not respond to his sister's allegation, Flip shoved Izzy back to her seat. "Okay mom, see you in twenty."

* * *

Flip had gone to Wyatt's house first since it was the closest but the tension in the car was so unbearable that all the teenagers scrambled away upon their arrival. Izzy sat in the second row with a dazed expression gracing her features. She knew her brother was good looking and lots of girls at Constance were interested in him, but she felt completely betrayed by Audrey's behavior.

Audrey ran to the trunk as soon as the car was parked in Wyatt's driveway, and by the time Flip came to the back she was dressed in a brown printed mini skirt and white cotton top. She was repacking her beach bag when she realized that he was inches from her, whispering her name in her ear. Audrey turned to him with wide eyes, her breath caught in her chest.

With a soft smile on his lips, Flip tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He thought he was comforting her until he noticed the crimson blush creeping up her throat and he quickly stopped his ministrations. "Hey, about the blast…I know it's not true so don't worry about it,"

Everything was crashing around her. A second ago, Audrey thought he was going to kiss her. She thought that he had finally realized his feelings for her now that the truth was laid at his feet. A solid brick wall quickly erected around her heart as she responded, "I'm a big girl Flip, you don't need to worry about me," she hoped she sounded forceful, like her father closing a business deal. "I mean, I can't even believe gossip girl would post something ridiculous like that," her heart was pounding uncontrollably. "Besides, _everyone_ knows Drew Baizen is more my type," she added with a lecherous smile before walking away.

Flip was completely dejected when he got back into the front seat. He watched as Audrey's swishing mini skirt teased the tops of her thighs when she walked up the stairs to Wyatt's house, and he shifted uncomfortably at his body's reaction. Out of the distance, he heard the passenger side door slam closed and Izzy's voice somewhere in the back of his mind.


	6. Chapter 5: Call

**A/N: Wow, this chapter really didn't go the way I expected, but the characters kind of took over! Thank you to all the readers who like the story, and I certainly hope you don't kill me after this chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Five: _Call_ or _No Woman, No Cry_

Nathaniel Fitzwilliam Archibald had somehow become the third most powerful business magnate in Manhattan; a position that he was very comfortable with, because he would fear for his life if he dethroned the true king of the island. As a Princeton university alumnus, Wharton business school graduate, high-powered Upper East Side father, and Southampton summer resident, Nate never thought he could be happy with this life but he was, he really was. He trudged through the cottage on steroids that Jenny had convinced him to purchase as their first investment with their own hard-earned money. His mother had been mortified when Nate declined the Vanderbilt family manse and refused to visit the home where he summered.

As soon as they entered the house, Jenny escaped to her office on the second floor to continue the work she had paused during the drive. To say that she was a workaholic was an understatement, but she was an artist, and an artist cannot turn off inspiration. There was a sketchpad at her side at all times. In fact, the collection she had designed while giving birth to Philip had garnered an unprecedented amount of attention for such a young brand. She loved the all-consuming nature of her work in times like these. When everything with Nate was tense or when she had a problem with the kids, drowning herself in the office was as good as the pot she knew Nate still smoked on occasion.

After dropping his bags in the bedroom, Nate crept to the parted door of the next room on the left and peeked through the small crack his wife had left. A smirk tugged at his lips while he watched her in deep concentration. Everything between them happened by accident, falling in love with her, their first kiss, his proposal, their two children. In fact, the only thing in their life that had been planned was the wedding, but even that couldn't go off without a hitch. He pushed the door open and strolled in, hands buried deep in his pockets.

Jenny didn't need to look up from her work to know that her husband had just broken into her privacy. A slight tinge of annoyance crawled into her throat, but she pushed it down into the depths of her stomach. She tried to cover up a flinch when she felt her husband's arms wrap around her from behind.

"Mmm…that drive was torture," Nate mumbled against her neck. He let his hands slip from her front and dug his fingers into her hips, pulling her tighter against himself in the process. "What are you working on?" he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Fall line," she replied curtly. "The seamstresses need to start on the patterns by the end of the month so we can have the first alterations done in August." She turned her body against him, her butt planted against the edge of the desk, his hands on each side. Jenny could feel her husbands growing need, so she pressed her lips against his rather than relegating him to bathroom with a stack of Penthouses.

Smiling against her lips, Nate nudged her into a sitting position on the desk. "That's what I love about your business," his kisses started to travel across her jaw and down her throat. "Always ahead of the curve," he muttered against her pulse point. He grabbed onto her hips when he felt a low grumble from the back of her throat.

Jenny groaned in frustration, she had so much work to do, she wished that Nate wouldn't try to seduce her and just get this done already. Suddenly she felt a vibration against her inner thigh and feigned indignation at her husband. "Seriously Nate, do you ever turn that damn thing off?"

"Ignore it, that's what I plan to do," he replied, capturing her lips in his. Nevertheless, the vibration didn't stop, and he could feel Jenny tense under his fingers, shooting him an angry glare. "Fine, I'll turn it off." He pulled the offending object from his pocket and looked at the screen. A picture of Chuck and Blair kissing flashed on the screen, and Nate couldn't help but snicker at his best friend's humor. "Just one second, it's Blair," he said to his wife before answering.

"Of course it is," Jenny replied, wiggling away from him and planting herself in the plush office chair opposite him to continue her abandoned project.

"Hey B," Nate looked back at his wife with pleading eyes but she was ignoring him. When he heard the other woman on the line, his entire demeanor changed. "What happened? No, no, calm down I can't understand you Blair" His heart was pounding in his ears; all he could focus on was his oldest friend crying so hard he couldn't comprehend a word she was saying. "Are the girls okay? Is it Chuck?" as soon as the name passed his lips Blair began to shout a litany of expletives at the top of her lungs, forcing Nate to pull the phone from his ear. Well, that answers that question. "Where are you?"

Jenny rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. No matter how long ago Blair had chosen Chuck, she still held uncontrolled power over Nate. When Blair Cornelia Waldorf-Bass said jump, Nate asked how high and in what outfit.

"Okay, I'll meet you in…fifteen minutes. Yes, I promise I'll hurry…get a bottle of water and try to breath." He coached into the phone before flipping it closed. "Something big happened with Chuck," he stated to the empty air separating him from Jenny.

"Yeah, I figured based on the things she was screaming." Jenny replied flippantly. No matter how much Nate coaxed her to be friends with Blair the rivalry was too strong and the betrayals too deep. "I don't understand why she always has to call _you_," she continued, trying to hide the anger in her voice.

"Jen, Blair was my friend long before she was anything else," he leaned across the desk and held her left hand in his, absently playing with the set of rings on her finger. "Serena's in Chicago and Henry's married to Chuck's brother. I'm the only unbiased friend she has."

Jenny sighed and looked away from her husband's pleading eyes. "Fine," she replied, utterly defeated by Blair Waldorf again. "Just, please be home for dinner."

Nate ran to the other side of the desk and brushed his lips against hers in a tender kiss. "Hopefully I'll be home in time to finish what we were just getting started." He smiled genuinely at her before walking out of the office and closing the door firmly.

* * *

When he entered the tiny bistro in Watermill, all he could think was that he had never seen Blair Waldorf so disheveled. In high school he held her hand as her life spiraled out of control, he was the one telling her to breathe in the back of a dirty New York cab when she went into labor with her twins, and he helped her pick up the pieces after Chuck's affair. Looking at the woman before him now, the only thing that read on her vacant expression was defeat. His best friend had finally broken his first love.

"Blair?" he attempted, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. He was standing directly in her line of vision and she had yet to acknowledge his existence.

She looked up into his blue eye and struggled to stand, but Nate was there to catch her when she lost control of her legs. She felt like she was choking on the air around her as she grasped at Nate's polo shirt. Suddenly she realized that they were no longer in the café, he had carried her out and into the back seat of his S600. He held her body tightly against his, tangling his fingers and whispers through her curls.

"He swore to me Nate," she began. Her whole body was trembling from exertion. "He swore that I was it. He swore he would never make me feel like this again. He swore that our family meant everything to him." She was choking again, her body shaking violently against him as the tears refused to fall.

"Shhh," he whispered against her hair. He was so scared. This wasn't Blair, it couldn't be. His Blair was strong and determined; she was protective and fierce. That is when Nate realized, that this wasn't his Blair, the woman curled and shaking in his lap was the Blair that Chuck created. "Tell me what happened. It's me Blair, you can tell me anything."

"He's been sleeping with another woman for three months," her voice was surprisingly steady as she began. This was Nate-- her Nate-- she could tell him everything. This man, who was her prince charming for as long as she could remember, would scoop her up and mend the shattered pieces of what remained. "I'm going to leave him Nate."

"Blair I think…" he began, but he was cut off by her harsh tone.

"Don't you dare try to convince me otherwise, Nathaniel! I've suffered longer than any sane person would have…" she felt his strong fingers dig into her arm pulling her attention away from the words she was struggling to get out.

"You didn't let me finish," he tucked a wild curl behind her ear, not believing what he was about to say. "I think you've spent so much time doing what was best for Blair Bass that you forgot all about Blair Waldorf." He didn't know who started it, but for some reason, Nate didn't stop when their lips met in a familiar tender kiss.

* * *

**See what I was talking about in the author's note! I don't know where that came from! I'm a die hard C/B shipper so please don't kill me during this detour. This story is about C/B, I promise they will find their wasy back to each other. As always, reviews are appreciated even if you're just going to tell me that you hate my guts for this chapter.**


	7. Chapter 6: Misguided

Chapter Six: _Misguided _or _Her Serene Highness_

Daniel Jonah Humphrey decided that he was the luckiest man alive. He had a beautiful and caring wife, three down to earth children, and a great job as a senior correspondent specializing in business and economics at the Chicago Tribune. When he got the job at the newspaper, after struggling for two years to find any well paying work in New York, Serena abandoned her gallery, friends, and family for the Windy City. Dan realized when they stepped out of the rented SUV that had brought them to the lavish Hamptons property, that it was time to stop running from the past. For the last ten years, he was hiding from the world that produced his breathtaking wife, and it was about time he made it up to her.

Serena rolled from her back to her stomach, throwing her long limbs over her husband in the process. "Hey," he laughed in response, playfully shoving her to the other side of the double sun-lounge, "you're gonna give me all kinds of funky tan lines."

"I didn't realize you were so concerned about tan lines!" Serena quickly straddled her husband, and kissed him teasingly with her hair creating a curtain around them.

"Ew! Get a room!" Madeline shouted at her parents from the patio's French doors, prompting her mother and father to reluctantly separate. "Mom, your phone has been ringing non-stop for the past twenty minutes and I can't concentrate on my work."

Serena hopped off the chaise she had been occupying moments ago and snatched the phone from her daughter. "Thank you, honey. Now, the whole point of coming to the Hamptons this summer was for you to relax." She put her hands on her daughter's shoulders and playfully shook her. "So, you get out there and be a teenager."

"Mom, there are thousands of homeless, starving children in Honduras that I would _helping_ right now if it wasn't for this 'vacation'. So, if you would please let me concentrate on what little I can do while I'm stuck here…I would appreciate it." She replied before turning on her heel and retreating to her MacBook in the library.

The blonde turned to her husband who was stifling a laugh from the exchange. "Where did she come from?" Serena asked with a shrug and shake of her head. The chirping from her BlackBerry began again and she happily answered her best friend's call. "Hey B, I have awesome news!" she sang with excitement into the phone.

Dan got up from the lounge with the intention of getting a drink from the kitchen. He kissed his wife's soft cheek just as her face creased in confusion.

"What's wrong B? Speak up; I can barely hear you…"

Dan furrowed his brow in confusion and pantomimed towards the phone. She shook her head and waved him off trying to focus on Blair. He motioned to her asking if she wanted a drink, but she was shooing him again while walking across the well-manicured lawn.

"What kind of kiss…like 'oh oops we kissed on the lips but its okay because we used to do that when we were twelve' or was it an 'I want to rip your clothes off, have crazy sex' kind of kiss," Blair had kissed Nate, her brother-in-law and her husband's best friend, Nate. "No wait it doesn't matter, how could you do that? You're both married B! You have spouses to think about…not to mention kids!" Serena turned back towards the house when she heard yelling and doors slamming. "Hold on a second, I'm not done with you," and then, there he was, waltzing out of her patio doors as if he owned the place. "What are you doing here Chuck?"

"Serena I tired to stop him," Dan called out from the kitchen where he was picking up pieces of a broken glass. Chuck had stormed through their house leaving a path of destruction through their kitchen. Holding a plastic bag filled with the remains of his cup, Dan approached the door, "When I told him you were talking to Blair he stormed in."

"Hello sis," he walked up to Serena with an outstretched hand. "May I have the phone, please?"

Listening intently to Blair's protests from the other end, Serena watched him with wide eyes. "Don't call me '_sis_'," she began, before taking a backward step from Chuck. "She doesn't want to talk to you. She says that you should…B I can't say that!" she shouted, turning her attention back to the BlackBerry. "Okay fine, she says that you should drive yourself to Brooklyn, drink all the scotch you can find, get herpes, castrate yourself, then jump off the bridge."

"Please tell my darling wife that I love her too," Chuck responded with a frustrated glare. "I need to speak with you, so when the two of you are done, I'll be waiting on that chair," he announced rudely, as if Serena was wasting his precious time, before making his way to the appointed lounge.

Serena could feel the anger burning in her chest when Blair quickly told her what Chuck had been up to in the moments after his name came out. Although Blair's suggestion as to how Chuck could fix things seemed a bit harsh, Serena felt compelled by Blair's honesty. "Well I guess you figured out my surprise," she said, turning her attention back to the phone. "Come over with the girls later for dinner, I'm ordering Thai."

Chuck looked over his shoulder, trying to be stealth about his spying, and attempting to ignore the death glare from Dan. At first, he wished that he was at Eric's right now, but he could not risk Grace's reaction. Now, he just wished for a scotch on the rocks.

"Get out of my house, Chuck!" Serena yelled in her stepbrother's direction after hanging up on Blair. "You aren't going to get any pity from me this time." She said after walking right past him. Serena bumped Dan's shoulder when she walked into the house, wordlessly signaling him to get rid of the offending presence.

The two men stood in an awkward staring contest, Chuck by the pool chair he was occupying and Dan leaning against the doorframe leading to the kitchen. When he heard the upstairs bedroom door slam shut, Dan stood straight with his hands stuffed in his pockets. "I've got an eighteen year old bottle of Macallan if you're interested."

Chuck sneered instinctively in Dan's direction. "I don't need _pity scotch_, especially not from you."

Dan sighed and shook his head. "I seem to be the only person willing to be civil towards you at this point, take what you can get," he ignored the hostility directed in his direction well. He knew that living with Blair couldn't be the easiest task, so he always took a bit of pity on Chuck.

"Fine," Chuck responded with a wounded huff. "I suppose I can live with _Macallan_, but I'm buying you a bottle of Glen Garioch so you can taste some real scotch."

"That would be a nice gesture considering the torture you're about to put me through by telling me what's going on." Dan turned back into the house without looking at Chuck, knowing that the other man was following close behind.

* * *

One bottle of Macallan 18 and three-quarters of a Johnny Walker blue label later, Chuck and Dan had come to a sort of…understanding. Chuck would drink $200 of Dan's liquor and mumble about his "feelings", while Dan would sip and listen, inserting the occasional sarcastic quip, with the promise of a $2500 replacement for his top shelf.

"As the girls got older I felt like it wasn't about me anymore," Chuck began, in his full voice, for the first time that afternoon. "She was in love with everything I had given her. The twins, the money, the society lifestyle; it's like I was just a stand-in…"

Dan took a long gulp of his whisky at that point, draining the whole glass. "Are you telling me you've been thinking that for six years?"

Chuck looked darkly over at his companion. "I thought you were just going to listen. It's not like I talk about _feelings_ on a regular basis Humphrey,"

"Right, sorry," he was about to continue but Chuck's glare stopped him. "Shutting up."

He watched as the brown liquor mixed with ice when he swirled the glass in his hand. "When it was just us, she promised me things,"

Dan grimaced involuntarily at the comment, which sounded vulgar coming from Chuck's lips.

"Not like that," in his drunken state Chuck waved him off before continuing. "When we had the girls, they became our whole world. Everything else got pushed into the background, including _our_ relationship."

"That happens Chuck," Dan began refilling his glass as he spoke. "Serena and I had to move to a different time zone before we got back on track when West was born."

Chuck pushed his glass towards Dan, silently requesting a refill. "We're not you and Serena. I'm selfish and emotionally stunted."

Dan choked on his liquor; he was dumbfounded by Chuck's blatant honesty.

"_In vinus veritus_," Chuck swirled his glass and brought the amber liquid to his lips. "You and I are here because you want to know why I do what I do." He began in lazy drawl. "Well there's a scared little boy named Charlie Bass who thinks that if he screws up enough everyone will leave him." He turned to Dan who sat it hazy amazement. "Up until Blair, everyone managed to prove Charlie right. Too bad Charlie is a selfish little prick who can't be wrong."

"You're pushing her away because you're scared of losing her," Dan stated as matter of fact. "I never thought that I would say what I'm about to say, but you have to trust yourself Chuck. Blair was there when you hit the bottom, why would she leave now?"

His jaw clenched as he stared forward into the mirrored bar. "She'll realize that I never deserved her," he whispered, "that the biggest mistake of her life was the day she married me."

Dan placed a tentative hand on Chuck's shoulder and tried to hide his surprise when it wasn't shrugged off. "You gotta tell little Charlie to shut the fuck up and go win back your woman."

Chuck ran a hand roughly through his hair before standing on uneven footing. "Daniel," he began, when the other man stood from the neighboring stool. "This was…helpful,"

"Don't worry; I fully expect this to be the last drunken heart to heart we ever experience," Dan replied.

He nodded and readjusted his suit jacket. "I'll call Monica about that Glen Garioch, your scotch is shit."

Before Dan had an opportunity to respond, Chuck had slammed the front door, his Lanvin wingtips carrying him into the Southampton dusk.


	8. Chapter 7: Gun

AN: First of all, I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed/favorite'd/alerted the story, it really means so much! So the last two chapters were emotionally draining for me to write so this is a fluffy summer flashback. It doesn't really advance the plot but it's going to give some character insight. Enjoy!

Chapter Seven: _Gun_ or _Lock the Parents Out_

The first Saturday in August was reserved on every calendar in the Hamptons. Everyone who was anyone knew that the first week in August was filled with a series of celebrations in honor of the Bass twins, culminating in blowout gala at the historic Rhodes mansion. One year there were fire-eaters and characters on stilts; another year there were acrobats performing on the backs of elephants. The fantasy and whimsy had become part of Hampton's culture, as much as Shinnecock Hills Golf Club on Saturday afternoons or Dune on Memorial Day weekend.

The Bass twins never attended their own birthday gala, the best part of the birthday festivities for Grace and Audrey was the midnight barbecue for their friends, which celebrated their actual birth, between the third and fourth of the month.

_"I hate that these parents always send their nannies," Blair announced before placing herself, and her Cosmo, into her husband's lap. "I mean do they think I order all this Kobe beef for the hired help?"_

_"Maybe next year you should put the menu on the invitation?" Jenny suggested before turning her attention back to her Scrabble tiles. "Bingo! DESIGNER, on a triple word score, eighty six points, beat that Dan!"_

_Dan groaned half in frustration at the game and half at his hosts who were currently devouring each other's faces. "Guys, there are kids around; I don't want to have the sex talk with my seven and eight year old just yet."_

_Chuck tugged Blair's bottom lip with his teeth, eliciting a soft purr from his wife, as he pulled away from their kiss. "My wife, my house, my rules, Humphrey," although he was looking directly at Dan, his hand crept up the front of Blair's pink blouse. "Come to think of it, my Scrabble too. I declare little J the winner." _

_"What, you can't do that! The game isn't even over," Dan protested._

_"It is now!" Serena shouted from the edge of the patio before turning a massive water gun on her friends._

_Nate, who had also stolen one of the guns from the kids they were playing with moments ago, assisted Serena in assaulting the other adults._

_The sudden battering of water caused them to jump from their seats spilling beers, scotch, and Cosmos in the process. Jenny was laughing and running, Dan was trying to reason with Serena, and the Bass' started to scheme._

_"You get Serena's attention, don't worry about Nate, he's too focused on Jenny, just give me enough time to get to the other side of the house." Blair commanded her husband while tying back her wet curls._

_"You look very hot all wet Mrs. Bass," Chuck tugged at the hem of Blair's now see-through blouse, moments before they were pelted with water again. "How do I know you won't abandon me?" he yelled to her as she ran across the lawn._

_A wide smile graced her lips as she placed a finger in front of them to quiet her husband, for fear that her plan would be ruined. _Trust me_, she mouthed wordlessly before disappearing._

_Serena couldn't control her laughter when she attacked Chuck causing him to squirm and scream a series of expletives. _

_"Drop the guns now!" Blair yelled from behind Nate and Serena, prompting them both to turn in her direction._

_Serena shook with laughter as her accomplice cowered in fear at the sight of a soaked Blair pointing a garden hose directly at them. Her makeup was ruined, tracks of mascara slid down her cheeks, her clothes were translucent and sticking to her skin, but revenge glinted in her brown eyes._

_"B, you wouldn't!" Serena managed to choke out through her laughter, but the pure cold water that assailed her skin quickly jolted her. "No fair!" she yelled, trying to escape the water, as the other adults broke into laughter._

_"Hmm you're right," Blair began, cutting off the water flow from the hose, "You had help!" she yelled before turning the spray on Nate. When he ran, she chased him, keeping the hose directly at his back. A strong arm wrapped around her waist and when she faltered, the two bodies tumbled to the grass cutting off the hose's flow. "Hey!" she yelled at her husband who was forcing back laughter. Once Blair was accosted, the other adults went inside the house to dry off with the towels Dorota had put out for the children._

_Chuck smiled genuinely down at his wife who was struggling to continue her act of revenge. "Come on Gertrude Jekyll; let's get you some dry clothes."_

_"Fine," she resigned, finally releasing the plastic hose she had been grasping. Blair allowed her husband to help her back to her feet, but grimaced at the squishing feeling in her shoes when she stood. "They ruined my shoes," she added with an adorable pout._

_Chuck easily lifted her into his arms, attempting to ignore the wet feeling on his own feet, "Yeah, mine too."_

_Blair gasped and stared wide eyed at Chuck. "The new Dolce and Gabbanas?!" she exclaimed. Chuck's sigh and resigned nod was all she needed to know she was correct. "Oh, Serena is so going down," She announced with narrowed eyes, causing Chuck to burst into laughter once again._

_

* * *

  
_

_Grace slowly snuck out from behind the bushes that had concealed her for the past five minutes. She looked carefully at the shiny plastic water gun that lay abandoned at her feet. Drew Baizen, the boy who secretly made her little heart flutter, had deserted the toy in favor of chasing her sister Audrey. Although the twins were only turning seven that very evening, Audrey always got the attention of boys with her confidence and infectious laughter. When Grace lifted the gun into her hand, the cool plastic against her palm caused a mischievous smirk to tug at her lips._

_"What are you doing?" Flip asked innocently from behind her, causing Grace to gasp and spin around quickly, knocking the boy over with the oversized toy. "Ouch Gracie," he whined, rubbing his elbow where it had hit the ground. _

_"Sorry Flip, you scared me!" Grace began, sticking out a hand to help her blond friend up. "I thought you were Drew."_

_Flip looked at her questioningly. "Why would it matter if I was Drew?" even though he was almost two years older, Phillip Archibald wasn't the brightest crayon in the Crayola box._

_"Because," she whispered sternly, "this is _his_ water gun, Flip!"_

_The blond boy's eyes grew wide in fear of the older, much more violent Drew Baizen. "Gracie, you better leave that alone," he told her candidly before running in search of his cousin Lorence._

_Grace considered Flip's suggestion as she held the water gun in her hand, but a tug behind her ribs wanted him to catch her, wanted his attention on her instead of Audrey. However, the more rational Grace was winning the battle, and the young girl decided to discard the toy once again._

_"Hey, that's mine, give it back, Gracie!" Drew shouted as he ran back to the spot where he had left his water gun._

_She turned around when she heard him yell in her direction, and clutched the plastic against her Burberry bathing suit. "Finders keepers, Drew!" she called out teasingly._

_His breathing was erratic with anger and something else in his belly that his ten-year-old brain didn't recognize. "Gracie, I said give it back!" he struggled with the small girl until he finally had the plastic toy back in his control. He almost didn't realize that Grace was sprawled on the grass attempting to hold back tears._

_Jeremy ran up to the two children when he heard a scuffle and spoke up when he saw his young friend fall to the ground. "Hey, that wasn't nice Drew!" he admonished, before turning his attention to the fallen girl. "Gracie, are you okay?" he questioned, his voice laced with innocence and sincerity._

_Grace was trying to be strong so that Drew wouldn't laugh at her or call her a baby, but Jeremy's soft voice made her feel safe. She slowly shook her head _no_ and felt fat silent tears spilling down her cheeks from the pain in her ankle._

_"You better say you're sorry Drew!" Jeremy began, boring holes through the other boy's skull with his eyes. "You hurt Grace, and it's her birthday."_

_"What are you going to do about it Jeremy?" Drew spat in the blonde's direction. Honestly, he was going to apologize, kneel on the ground, check that she was okay, and maybe wipe the dirty tear stains from the apples of her cheek._

_"I'll do this," Jeremy felt his tiny fist connect with Drew's nose. Then he felt a gush of warmth flow down his arm when his knuckles hit the other boy's chin._

_When Drew ran away from the scene calling for his nanny, Margareta, Jeremy looped an arm behind Grace's tiny back and helped her hobble to Dorota._

_On the night of her seventh birthday, Grace Lillian Bass fell in love with Jeremy Clayton Fisk._


	9. Chapter 8: Silence

A/N: sorry about the long wait for this chapter! Real life was really busy and I lost a lot of writing days because of Passover. The next chapter should be ready by the end of the week, so no long wait for that one. Please enjoy, and leave me a little note when you finish reading :) xoxo

Chapter Eight: _Silence_ or _Everything's Not Lost_

Charles Bartholomew Bass sat on the grass behind his stepbrother's house staring blankly into the lawn before him. His mind was…empty. Each puff of marijuana smoke into his lungs chased away another thought of Blair because every thought of her tore his heart to shreds. _Blair stood in the doorway of his office wearing a dark trench coat and four-inch Louboutin pumps, it didn't take long for him to figure out there was nothing underneath. _He slowly inhaled from the end of the joint in his hand again before he heard the glass doors open behind him.

"Did you sleep?" Eric asked before planting himself on the ground next to his stepbrother. He pushed a mug of fresh coffee in the older man's direction. An offensive smell caused him to wrinkle his nose in disgust before he realized what Chuck held between his fingers. "Can you keep the illegal substances to a minimum in my house?"

"Sure…" Chuck drawled before taking another hit.

Eric shook his head and placed the coffee on the grass between them. "That includes the lawn, Chuck."

Chuck took a quick toke before flicking the roach away towards the property line. He exhaled slowly, letting the heavy smoke escape his lungs. "No, I didn't sleep." He responded to Eric's earlier question. "How did I get this far, Eric? How did I let it slip away?" he sighed into the fresh morning air.

Eric shook his head before taking a sip from his own steaming mug. "I can't answer that question for you." He responded honestly.

"Do you think this is the end?" Chuck turned to his companion for the first time that morning. "Do you think it's finally over?"

The younger man shifted uncomfortably in his position. In fact, he knew it was the end. Blair had called Henry during dinner the previous night to discuss what had happened. She had asked Henry to start drawing up divorce papers Monday morning. "Yes, I do think it's over." Eric responded in a dejected tone.

Chuck smiled and acknowledged the coffee by his side for the first time. "You're wrong Eric." He took a deep gulp of the hot liquid, feeling it burn through his insides. "I went to our house last night when I got back from the penthouse," Chuck began, before Eric cut him off unceremoniously.

"Wait, you went back to Manhattan last night?" Eric said, clearly alarmed. He thought Chuck had gone back to the woman he was sleeping with.

"I had some things to take care of," Chuck drawled. He abandoned his coffee and leaned back against his elbows. "Let's just say, Uncle Jack is getting a very _crazy_ and _clingy_ early birthday gift."

Eric waited for Chuck to continue, but the brunette had his head thrown back catching the rays of sun on his pallid skin. "What happened when you went to your house?" he prodded.

Chuck laughed quietly in his chest, thinking about the state Blair was in when he arrived at 4 a.m. "Blair was drunk, passed out on the couch in the living room."

"And that makes you think you still have a chance of saving your marriage?" Eric asked an edge beginning in his voice. He hated the way Chuck treated Blair for the past six years, since the old Chuck Bass behavior had come back.

"Why are people always cutting me off?" Chuck questioned rhetorically.

"Because you talk so damn slow," Eric mumbled, before signaling Chuck to continue his story.

_Chuck carried Blair to their bed and slowly began undressing her. After divesting her of the scrap of fabric that presumed to be a dress, Chuck left the silk camisole that was underneath but slid her legs into grey cashmere pajama bottoms. He then went to the en-suite to retrieve a damp washcloth, knowing how much Blair hated to sleep with makeup. When he finished cleaning her skin, he relaxed on his side of the bed. His wife was naturally curled inward, in a position that would wrap perfectly against his frame. Chuck turned on his side and took her hand, admiring the way it fit into his, before he placed it against the spot on his chest above his heart. "Yours," he whispered into the silent darkness._

_Blair subconsciously moved towards the heat on the other side of the bed. She snuggled her face against his dress shirt, inhaling deeply. In her sleep, she mumbled "mine" against his pounding heart._

"She still loves me, Eric," Chuck smiled genuinely staring up at the empty blue sky. Every fiber of his being was hopeful. He stood up, straightened his clothes, ready to start the day and put his plan in motion.

Eric sighed, the fear of his knowledge resting on his shoulders. "Do you think that's going to be enough?"

Both men turned when they heard the glass door slide open. Serena stood holding a paper bag full of breakfast pastries, anger pushing at her voice box when she saw her stepbrother. "Wake and bake, very classy Chuck," she sneered, the smell of marijuana instantly hitting her nostrils when she opened the door. "What's he doing here, E?"

Eric pushed himself into a standing position and dropped a kiss on his sister's cheek. "Chuck is staying with Henry and me for a bit," he announced nonchalantly.

"Are you kidding?" she replied heatedly.

Eric grabbed Serena's upper arm, pulling her back into the house, and away from Chuck. "What's your problem Serena?" he snarled. "I understand that Blair is your best friend and she's always been like another sister to me, but Chuck is our family…"

Serena pulled her arm away from her brother's grasp and dropped the paper bag on the couch. "He's not our family Eric, and don't start going all psycho-babble on me. Blair and the girls are the only one's I care about-"

Eric cut her off, "And you think that the girls not having a father while they go through the hardest period of adolescence is a good idea?"

"Well your kids don't have a mother!" Serena snapped, but was instantly shocked by her own words.

Eric shook his head, artfully avoiding his sister's remorseful gaze. "That was low, even for you Serena."

"Eric, I… I'm so sorry…you know I didn't…" Serena stuttered, searching for the words that would take back the wounding barb she had shot at her brother.

"You don't understand anything that's going on here," Eric said, staring into his nearly empty coffee mug. "You and Dan were gone before any of this started. And there are things I can't even tell you because Blair forced Chuck to come to me for marriage counseling, so it's privileged information," He finally met her eyes before continuing. "I have to find a way to help them get through this, together or apart."

Serena nodded dumbly before responding. "I just want to do what's best for my friend Eric. She's lost and in so much pain because of him…"

"I want to do what's best for _both_ of them S."

"So what is best for them, in your professional opinion, doc?" she asked with a sad smile, attempting to lighten the mood.

Eric finished off the last of his coffee as he contemplated the question. "First of all, I'm not a doctor, I'm a therapist." He turned and looked through the closed glass door at his stepbrother on the lawn. "I don't know the answer yet, but I know they have to be civil towards each other before anything else."

Serena squinted and examined her brother. "You say that like you have something planed E."

Eric smiled enigmatically before returning his attention to Serena. "I don't…but I have a feeling that Chuck might."

The man himself walked through the doors, pushing past Serena and offering Eric a curt nod, before walking out the front door. The siblings knew he was going to see his wife.


	10. Chapter 9: Smoke

A/N: This is another flashback that actually has to do with the plot. Just a few notes to explain: Lily and Rufus did not end up together in this story and she went back to being Lily Rhodes. Also there is a character mentioned here that's going to show up in at least one other flashback to better explain his relationship with the main characters. If you have any other confusion send me a message and I'll do my best to explain without giving away my plans. enojy!

Chapter Nine: _Smoke_ or _The Guide To Becoming Chuck and Blair_

The tarmac at Biggin Hill was wet and slippery as Chuck made his way from the limousine that carried him from The Dorchester hotel. The black umbrella he used to shield himself from the pounding English rain did little to protect his previously immaculate ensemble. Chuck ascended the metal stairs to the Bass jet, and shook the raindrops off his coat when he reached the indoor protection. He then reclined in one of the plush leather seats, taking a long sip from the tumbler of scotch that was waiting for him.

If you had asked him a year ago, Chuck Bass never thought he would be twenty years old and completely alone. When he arrived at Blair's penthouse one month ago, peonies and heart in hand, he never expected to be turned away. He thought they were inevitable, and he was done wasting time. That night, however, brought him here, to London; well first to Los Angeles, then Tokyo, Dubai, Milan, Berlin, and finally to London. Tonight he would fly back to New York, and when he arrived, Chuck planned to hole himself up in his TriBeCa duplex.

"Phoebe," he turned to his twenty six year old personal assistant, who had somehow become his grip on reality during the past few weeks. "Can we go over my schedule for next week?" he motioned for her to take a seat across from him. He noticed that when she did, she fidgeted. "I'm sorry; if you're tired you should take a rest. I know the past month has been…fast paced, and I'm sure you must be happy about returning to New York."

"No, no Mr. Bass, I'm fine," she replied. Her eyes, however, were glued to the Hermes day-planner in her lap. "Actually, Ms. Rhodes called this afternoon while you were meeting with Mr. Cattet, and she would like us to make one more stop before returning to New York sir."

Chuck unlatched the seat-belt from across his lap when the pilot announced that they had reached cruising altitude. He sat forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, holding his scotch with both hands. "Where to?" he would go anywhere to stay away from New York another week, that way when he returned Blair would be skiing in Vermont with her boyfriend and Serena. _No_, he scolded himself; _this is not about Blair, or that pansy Mason Cowdray, this is about Bass Industries_. As long as he was not going to Paris, he could survive.

"Casablanca, sir." Still avoiding eye contact, Phoebe sifted through her briefcase, before handing him a stack of papers. "Ms. Rhodes emailed the property perspectives, would you like me to review them with you?"

"That won't be necessary," he flipped through the pile of paper on his lap and abandoned the tumbler of scotch. He looked up at her with a genuine smile, "relax, read a magazine, have a drink…you work too hard, Phoebe."

The young woman rose from her seat and smoothed the imaginary wrinkles from her trousers. "No Mr. Bass, you do," she took a step towards the back of the plane and placed a hand on Chuck's hunched shoulder.

Chuck could feel the heat of her palm penetrating his silk blend shirt. Under normal circumstances, he would have no doubts about pulling Phoebe into his lap and running his fingers through her blond hair. He thought about how easily he could revel in her blue eyes rolling into the back of her skull, as she cried his name, under his ministrations. His body was deprived of a woman's comfort for months, and the reprieve could be as simple as turning his face up to hers. "Thank you," he responded almost inaudibly, eyes glued down at the paper in his lap. She patted his shoulder maternally and continued to the back of the jet.

* * *

Chuck allowed the bellhop to place his bags in the suite's foyer when they arrived at his room. He peeled a bill off the fold of Euros in his pocket and handed them to the boy. When Chuck entered the room, he was assaulted with the heady sent of flowers and noticed an extravagant yellow bouquet on the desk. He quickly turned back out the door, where the boy was retreating to the elevators, "Excuse me…"

The young bellhop twisted, stuffing the Euros in his jacket, "yes sir?"

"Could you send housekeeping up?" he returned his attention to the suite when a strong gust of air hit his face. It was then that he noticed the balcony door was propped open, the curtains moving with the breeze. "Sorry, never mind." He slammed the suite door shut, and engaged the lock. The blood was pounding in his ears as a silent wall erected itself around his heart; _she was here_.

Her back was turned to the open glass door, half empty glass champagne in her hand, as she looked over the urban sprawl. The hairs on her neck stood up with each determined step he took, until he stopped at the balcony's entrance and her breathing became labored. "I always thought it would be romantic to fall in love in Casablanca," she said after a long silent moment passed between them, staring into her glass of bubbly.

Chuck stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants and leaned against the doorframe. He also looked out over the city, but all that would come to mind was New York. "That's ironic; I always envisioned that Casablanca was where love came to die," he was suddenly aware of her every move; when her back tensed he could feel it on his fingertips.

"Please, don't say that," she whispered under her breath into the warm night.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pants and lit one silently. "I'm guessing you've cast me as Bogart for this particular scene," he exhaled and watched the smoke billow into the dark. "Which begs the question, did you bring your Victor with you?"

She shook her head and quickly wiped away an errant tear. "I brought daffodils."

He quickly stamped out the half-smoked cigarette under his loafers. "The symbol of unrequited love? I think you are mixing up your metaphors, Blair. Frankly I'm unimpressed." He bit back angrily.

Blair could no longer control the tears on her cheeks; her body trembled when she looked at him for the first time in a month. "They also represent new beginnings, rebirth, hope…" she responded, undeterred by his insult, "and I haven't cast you as anyone but Chuck."

Chuck pushed his back off against the frame and took three strides until he was standing close enough to hear her labored breathing. His fingers longed to reach out and brush the tears from her cheek, but he kept his hands buried at his side. "Where's Mason?" he asked, searching her eyes that were clouded over with unshed tears.

She turned her face away, unnerved by his sudden proximity, and finished the last of her champagne in one swallow. "I don't know," she refused to meet his inquisitive glare. "I haven't spoken to him since the night you came to the penthouse."

He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed in an effort to make her raise her eyes. "The night you sent me away? When you told me you were falling in love with someone else?" his voice was becoming desperate. When he realized he was touching her he pulled his hands away forcefully. "I thought we were done playing games, Blair!" he couldn't help but shout, no matter how hard he tried to control it.

"I was scared!" she screamed back. Once she looked into his probing brown orbs, her legs gave, and she collapsed into a chair. "You left me first, Chuck." Their breathing was discordant as they both relived a night in New York that occurred almost a year ago. "You cheated on me…you broke my heart."

He tentatively sat in the chair next to her, their chests facing each other, their knees centimeters from touching. "I know," he whispered, unable to find any other words to offer her. All his resolve from a moment ago was lost when he saw the broken girl in her eyes.

"It took a lot of time, but I realized that I was ready for forever, but you aren't the forever type." She gingerly placed her palm on his knee when she saw he was about to protest. "My heart was in a thousand pieces, and Mason helped me put it back together. I thought, maybe I really did love him, if only for that. But, when you came to me a month ago with all your apologies and promises, I fell apart all over again."

He didn't know why he did it, but Chuck lifted her hand from his knee and brought her fingers to his lips. The action elicited a choking sob from Blair's chest, but wordlessly begged her to continue.

"After everything you had done, no one could understand why I would want anything to do with you. When I told Mason that I couldn't see him anymore because I was still in love with you, he said such…terrible, hurtful things. Yet, I knew they were all true," Blair leaned forward so that her forehead was resting against his. "The only people who've talked to me in the last month are Lily and Nate."

_Nate_, the name swam furiously around Chuck's head. Nate was the only reason Blair had even met Mason. Chuck was convinced that Nate would never be satisfied unless Chuck and Blair were miserably separated.

"In fact, Nate's the reason I'm here," Blair continued. She softly stroked his open palm, dragging her fingernails against his long digits. "He reminded me about all his stupidity that I forgave over the years. He told me that I shouldn't give up in the face of true love…" a sad smile played on her lips. "But I have a feeling he stole that line."

Chuck tilted his head so their noses brushed together. He could feel her breath hot against his lips. "Will you forgive me B? Will you give me another chance?"

Blair suddenly pulled back, grabbed his face between her palms, and searched his face. "I would give you a thousand…" she felt his arms dart to her waist as he pulled them into a standing position. His lips greedily found hers as he pressed closer into her, forcing out the air between them.

The ties of her blue halter dress were undone and all the buttons on his shirt were opened. Blair reached under his shirt, and pulled his naked torso flush against her own. Meanwhile his arms enveloped her shoulders, his hands lost in her brown curls, moving her head to meet his desperate kisses. "Blair…" he began-- his voice husky with desire, "If I asked for your forever would you give it to me?"

Blair smile up at him sneakily, "stop being such a cheese ball, Bass."

His lips traveled down the column of her throat and he felt her shiver against the cold. "It was a legitimate question, Waldorf," he mumbled against her pulse point. He pulled her legs around his hips, cradled her in his hands as his mouth devoured the valley between her breasts.

"Always…" she whispered into his ear, attempting to control the sensations Chuck was eliciting from her body, "It's _always_ been yours." She suddenly realized that Chuck had deposited her on the king size bed, but it was the last coherent thought she had for hours.

* * *

Blair pushed Chuck off the king sized bed, causing him to fall against the tiles with a resounding thud. "Of all the disgusting…perverted…depraved—,"

"I thought it was pretty sexy actually…" Chuck cut off her rant with his indelible smirk on his lips. He gingerly rubbed his bare shoulder where it had connected with the hard tiles.

"You what!" she roared in response. Blair peeked her face over the edge of the bed, where Chuck lay prone, holding the white sheet against her naked flesh. "You honestly thought that by spelling it out against my—," she stopped herself short when a fierce blush crept into her cheeks.

Chuck laughed in response, while pulling himself back onto the mattress. "Yes, I thought spelling it out against your cl—,"

She shoved him again, but this time he was expecting it. "Don't you dare finish that thought…" she warned, anger playing in her brown orbs.

He grabbed her waist, pulling her on top of him although she struggled to get away. "It's the only way I knew you'd be screaming yes," he caught her lips, stealing a playful kiss.

"And what am I supposed to tell our children when they want to know what crazy romantic way you asked me to marry you?" she asked, while still attempting to pull away from him. "If I tell them the truth they'll think I was a whore!"

Chuck laughed deep in his chest, releasing her hips from his loving grasp. "Okay, go out to the balcony for a few minutes while I order breakfast and figure out something more _romantic_."

"Fine," she announce with a huff, pulling a plush white bathrobe around her frame. She turned back to him from the glass doors, indignation playing on her features. "It better be really good to make up for that stunt."

Already reaching for the phone to call room service, Chuck smiled at her before she disappeared.

* * *

Blair felt a pair of strong arms wrap her from behind while she watched the sunrise over the port of Casablanca, causing her smile to widen. "That was quick thinking…" she mused.

Chuck took one of his arms and pushed her soft curls to the side so he could have access to kiss down her neck, but did not return the arm to her waist. "I always thought I would ask you to be wife in a limo, or my suite at the Palace, or maybe even a rooftop in Brooklyn," he began, thinking about all the special places they shared in Manhattan—millions of miles from here. "But you always did have a way of throwing me off, Waldorf." He whispered gently against her throat, then gently capturing her earlobe.

"Chuck…" she whimpered, her back pressed hard against his chest. Suddenly the world disappeared around them until all that was left was Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck.

"I always want to make you happy Blair," he announced, before licking a hollow crevice on her shoulder. "I want you to fall in love in Casablanca…" he pulled the small velvet box from his matching white robe and snapped it open in front of her. " Will you be my wife?"

Blair quickly grabbed the sparkling diamond out of the box and turned herself in his arms. "Where did this come from?" she questioned sincerely. In all honesty, she _had _meant yes that morning, no matter how indecent his proposal.

"I had it with me the night I came to you," he answered quietly, looking at the ring in her hand, cautiously avoiding eye contact, "and I went straight to the airport after leaving the penthouse…so I've been carrying it around for the past month." He could vividly remember sitting down at Harry Winston and designing it; a seven-carat octagonal emerald cut diamond with four marquis and pear shaped diamonds on each side that looked like butterflies.

"It's stunning…," she said, wiping a stray happy tear that rolled down her cheek, "Put it on me!" Blair giggled, suddenly overwhelmed with excitement.

Chuck laughed too as he slid the platinum band onto her waiting left hand. "Don't you dare take it off B," he warned lightheartedly.

"Don't give me a reason to," she mumbled against his lips.

He placed her palm against his exposed chest where he knew his heart beat only for her. "It's yours Blair…only yours."

She pushed his robe farther open and placed searing kisses on the spot her hand occupied a moment ago. "Mine," she branded his chest with her word.

* * *

A/N 2: The ring is based on a Harry Winston design. You can find it by going to the Harry Winston website, from the homepage: Jewels=Rings=Colored Stone Rings, and it's the Marquesa Emerald Ring with Diamonds (except Blair's ring is a diamond, not an emerald center stone)


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